


Downtime

by Northlight (anenko)



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Co-Written, Early Fandom, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-14
Updated: 2002-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:06:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anenko/pseuds/Northlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Inquiry into the Leisure Activities of X5 Designate Zack<br/>by Viadyne Laboratories Behavioral Research Department</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written with The Inimitable Pooh_Bah.

**Downtime: An Inquiry into the Leisure Activities of X5 Designate Zack   
Viadyne Laboratories Behavioral Research Department**

 

Let us now turn our attention to one of the most pressing questions in X5 behavioral science: what do they do when they have time on their hands? Those remaining at the base are no mystery; they delight in their identities as soldiers and are usually found out on the rifle range or practicing their hand-to-hand combat skills when they have spare time between missions and training sessions. It is suspected, however, that this is not the behavior they would naturally display--fear of their trainers has long been observed in all X5s, and those readily available for study are well aware that they are constantly monitored. For a more accurate study of the X5 mind, the escapees of '09 seemed to be the best subjects. Away from the influences of Colonel Lydecker and the rigid structure of Manticore life, their true natures have surely emerged.

Our team of researches has conducted extensive research into this through careful surveillance of the escapees' CO, Zack. He is known to be in frequent contact with other rogue X5s, providing the opportunity for both thorough study of one individual and brief insights into other possible psychological profiles among the escapees. Several distinct types of relationships to Zack were observed, and investigation of these--i.e., surveillance of other, less paranoid X5s--is underway.

The surveillance of Zack lasted for nearly a year, during which he evaded the research team many times, eventually doing so thoroughly enough that he could not be located again and further observations were impossible. Unfortunately, even with this extended period of time, our strong and suspicious subject did not provide us with much in the way of clues. Therefore, some conjecture was in order. Our research team has taken the observations from our surveillance department and devoted many long months examining possible forms of amusement in which Zack, and perhaps the other escaped X5s, may partake. They are now proud to present the resulting hypotheses. Please be aware that the following are merely proposals and not fact.

* * *

1\. Eminent Zack scholar Elizabeth P. Fossa has suggested that the subject occasionally concocts wild "Manticore is going to get us!" stories for his fellow escaped X5s in order to ensure the continued vigilance and preparedness of his subordinates.

_Zack was--dare he say it?--bored. He had not been required to save his siblings or kick Manticore ass for several long months. Despite the potential for bodily harm, helping Jondy decide which hairstyle best suited her did not carry quite the same punch as did pulse-pounding action arising from the necessity of escape and evade maneuvers. Zack tapped his finger against his chin, turning all his suspicion-driven intellect towards the problem at hand._

_The answer came to him after several long moments in which he pondered and discarded several possibilities. Zack fished through his pockets, searching out a quarter. He had already noted the presence of a pay phone beyond his current hidey-hole. Warily peering around the street, Zack advanced upon the phone. He punched in a number he had long since memorized._

_"Yeah? Krit here."_

_Zack carefully modulated his voice into an appropriately soldierly yet worried tone: "Your position has been compromised." The phone clanked at the other end of the line. Zack nodded to himself and hung up. He would meet up with Krit, flee across state lines and help his brother set up in a new city. He was no longer bored. Objective achieved._

* * *

2\. As alpha male, our subject is likely to benefit from his position. For instance, it is probable that he has access to female members of his pack. We propose that our subject carefully times his visits to the female X5s in order to catch them in a period of heat, therefore helping consolidate his position of power.

_Zack slid open the window and Jondy's apartment and slipped inside. He sniffed the air and rubbed his hands gleefully. "Jondy?" Zack called out in a voice that he hoped did not resonate with 'oh, yeah, I am so going to get laid' vibes._

_Jondy peeked out from her bedroom. "Zack?"_

_Zack struck a manly yet not at all obvious pose. "I'm here, Jondy."_

_Jondy looked him up and down and licked her lips. She struck, knocking him to the ground. Zack decided that he did not mind being taken down by a subordinate in special circumstances. Jondy was kissing her way down his neck. "Are you sure?" Zack asked, tugging at the hem of her shirt._

_"Shut up," Jondy growled._

_Two days later, Zack surfaced from beneath Jondy's shredded comforter. "I'm afraid that I have to leave," he told the woman next to him._

_"Oh?"_

_Zack nodded. "Mm hm. It's about time for me to check in on Max again." He loved his job._

* * *

3\. Dr. Erica H. Reese, a leading doctor in the Manticore Psychiatric Department, believes the subject to indulge in the occasional quiet afternoon curled up on the couch with a nice, hot cup of tea and a good book.

_Zane skipped merrily into his apartment, just off of work and anticipating the long weekend before him--plenty of time to finish up the last few chapters of the old Star Wars novel he'd been reading all week. He was a bit surprised to find that his meager but growing library of sci-fi novels had been replaced by the latest issues of "Guns and Ammo," "Green Beret," and "Conspiracy Digest." He turned to the living room, and glared at the familiar form sprawled across his couch._

_"Hi," Zack greeted from behind a sideways-orientated "Special Forces Today."_

_"What did you do with my books?" Zane demanded._

_"Traded 'em to the bookstore for--"_

_"For *this* crap?!" Zane demanded, gesturing angrily at the magazines. Now he'd never know what became of Anakin and Amidala and Obi-Wan!_

_"It's research," Zack informed his brother self-righteously. "Do you think I'd read anything for *fun*?"_

_Zane darted toward the sofa, and before Zack could react, had swiped the "Special Forces Today" and was analyzing its usefulness as research material._

_"Gimme that!" Zack ordered, snatching at the magazine._

_Zane dangled it just out of his shorter brother's reach. "A bimbo in a camouflage bikini does seem very, very important for keeping Manticore off your tail . . . "_

* * *

4\. With large families, there is always the option of picking on or beating up a younger, smaller sibling. This activity would not only relieve Zack's boredom, but build up his ego at the same time. Often, his target can be made to rise to the bait and hit first, so that Zack does not diminish the respect the others have for him by appearing to be a bully.

_Zack waited in the shadows as Syl hopped out of the Jeep and sauntered across the parking lot._

_"I looked out the window this morning," Zack informed his little brother, "and my motorcycle was covered in toilet paper."_

_Syl put on his most innocent, Bambi-eyed expression. "Aw gee, you don't think *I* did that, do you?"_

_"That's *exactly* what I think."_

_"You sure? What if it was Krit? We look a lot alike, you know."_

_"No, it had to have been you."_

_"I didn't do it!" Syl cried indignantly--the expected reaction. "Toilet paper's too expensive these days to waste on a motorcycle. Now, shaving cream or bologna, I might have done . . . "_

_"You did it," Zack insisted, pressing further._

_"Did not!"_

_"You were always trouble," Zack accused, wishing Syl would hurry up and loose his cool._

_Syl just stuck his tongue out at Zack._

_"And you're short, scrawny, and incompetent," Zack added. "Even Jondy can kick your ass. Hell, a normal girl her size could kick your ass!"_

_Syl's eyes flashed. There we go! "I'll show you ass kicking!" He swung at Zack's head._

_Zack dodged the blow effortlessly, and happily sent his own fist sailing. He'd never quite gotten over Max kicking his ass--but this little tussle would go a long way toward repairing his wounded pride. Badgering his brother, he thought, was something he should try more often._

* * *

5\. As C.O. of a group of often rebellious superhuman soldiers, we propose that our subject spends much time in making status-appropriate roles known to his subordinates. From psych profiles previously made available of the rogue X5s (see case files 80328, 8966, 9865), it seems likely that guarding his status takes much time and effort. Therefore, we surmise that the subject is often engaged in face work.

_"What did you say?" Zack demanded with the righteous rage that only a genetically enhanced killing machine sworn to protect his fellow genetically enhanced killing machines could manage. His jutted his jaw, narrowed his eyes and thrust out his chest in an appropriately manly and commanding manner._

_Brin lifted her chin, narrowed her eyes in a show of defiance. "I said no."_

_"No? *No?*" Zack repeated, advancing on his fellow X5, steps in perfect sync with each repetition of the junior X5's denial. "Let me see if I'm hearing you right, soldier," Zack snapped, teeth clicking shut with an audible snap, just beyond the tip of Brin's nose. "You--my subordinate--are disobeying my--your commanding officer's--direct orders?"_

_Brin fought the urge to squirm. "Correct." 'You Boot Camp reject,' she concluded silently._

_"After all I've done for you," Zack said, shaking his head, his voice outraged. "I helped you all escape Manticore, helped you evade capture repeatedly, spent the entirety of my life protecting you ungrateful, poor excuses for soldiers!" He poked a finger against Brin's chest. "I think I deserve some respect, don't you, *soldier*?"_

_Brin's lips narrowed. "Yes."_

_Zack glared at her._

_"Yes, sir!" Brin exclaimed, snapping her heels together and flinging her hand up into a crisp salute._

_"Very good," Zack commended. "Now give me the remote control."_

* * *

6\. Having been trained in the art of subterfuge and undercover missions, we find it likely that the subject spends much time perfecting the characterization of the personas he adopts while going about his daily activities. Having been living amongst civilians and interacting with them for some years now, we surmise that our subject is now well accustomed to non-military situations. It seems probable that with our subject's eye for detail and demonstrated ability in undercover work, he is now nearly indistinguishable in speech pattern and hobbies from other American males of his age.

_"No, no, man! You've gotta *smile*."_

_Zack scowled. "I am smiling," he stated firmly._

_"That's not a smile."_

_"Did you somehow misunderstand me?" Zack glowered. "I said that I am smiling."_

_"The chicks don't look too impressed."_

_"I'm not here to impress them."_

_Zack's companion sighed. "If you aren't here to pick up girls, why did you bother to come with me?"_

_"I'm here to get a feel for what the average young American male acts like," Zack answered, still smarting about the comment he had overheard some few days earlier. He was not more uptight than someone's corseted eighty-year-old virgin aunt!_

_"It ain't like *that,* I'm telling you. Go ahead, smile."_

_He gingerly attempted a smile. His cheeks began to ache, though his lips had hardly moved. But he was a soldier. He persevered through the pain. He could hotwire a car, he could fly a helicopter and he could run across walls. He could damn well smile._

_Yes, yes, there--oh, no. He'd grimaced. Ah, well. Good enough, he decided. "Better?"_

_"You look like someone just punched you in the gut," came the disgusted reply._

_"No, there's more tearing with that, and--"_

_"Okay, okay! It's all good."_

* * *

7\. Our esteemed colleague, Dr. Serge Devereaux, one of the foremost researchers involved in the study of the psychological development of the rogue X5s, has suggested that they are involved in a process of psychological discovery. Free from the constraints imposed upon them within Manticore, Devereaux has proposed that the rogue X5s are engaging in self-reflection and expanding upon their established emotional and mental patterns. For a closer look at Dr. Devereaux's controversial theories, please refer to his 2017 report, "The Evolution of Personality Amongst X5s."

_Zack nibbled thoughtfully at the tip of his blue pen. He was currently engaged in maneuvers foreign to his previous experience. While he knew every possible manner in which someone could be killed with a spoon, Zack had little expertise in more gentle forms of interpersonal relations._

_He had a sheet of loose-leaf paper set out before him. There were a few squiggling blue lines which attested to the fact that Zack had not merely been attempting to will words into existence. He sighed and settled his pen down. He cast a suspicious glance around his apartment before picking up the paper. He cleared his throat._

_Zack squinted, cocking his head as he considered the worth of his compliments. "Max, your voice is more wondrous than the sound of a well running motorcycle engine. I enjoy your touch nearly as much as I do the weight of a fully-loaded gun in my hand." Wait, wait--Max didn't like guns. "Being in your presence is more satisfying than the destruction of my enemies. I desire you almost more than I do Lydecker's death."_

_If *he* were a woman, that would have melted his heart._

_Beat *that* Cale, he thought. Zack smiled smugly and leaned back in his chair. Max didn't stand a chance against the full force of his charm._

* * *

8\. Due to some genetic characteristics, our subject is sure to display some animalistic tendencies. According to our subject's final psych report prior to the '09 escape (see file 90998), he was already displaying territorial leanings. Expanding upon this pre-established pattern, it can be theorized that our subject engages in protection of objects, areas and individuals he considers his. This type of action is most likely centered upon our subject's subordinates.

_The moment Max left the room (Logan and Zack both following the sway of her hips), Zack turned the full force of his glare upon Logan. His eyes narrowed to slits. His lips pulled back to expose teeth white enough to set a dentist's heart aflutter. Not being one be stingy with expressions of disapproval, Zack threw in a growl for good measure._

_Logan's hands clenched against the arms of his wheelchair. His eyes narrowed in anger. His mouth thinned into a narrow line._

_The hair laying at the back of Zack's neck managed to bristle outwards. He hissed._

_Logan sneered._

_Zack's eyes widened: you--!_

_Yeah, tough guy. Watcha gonna to do about it? Logan's sneer seemed to say._

_Zack stalked forward. Forget nobility and compassion. He wasn't above beating up a man in a wheelchair. He fisted his hands in the collar of Logan's shirt, pulled the other man upwards until they were eye to eye. Zack smiled, all teeth and rage._

_Logan manfully resisted the urge to let loose an *eep!* of distress. He held Zack's gaze._

_Zack glowered. Why you little--! He snarled and shook Logan until the other man's teeth rattled. Logan was beginning to look decidedly queasy. Zack's head snapped up. He let Logan drop and took a quick step backwards before Max strolled back into the room._

_Max narrowed her eyes. She could practically feel the testosterone in the air. "What have you two been up to?" she asked suspiciously._

_"Nothing," both men chimed in unison before turning to glare at each other._

_*Hmph.*_

_*Grr.*_

* * *

9\. Along with the activities the subject is believed to participate in, there are activities that are believed to be completely beyond his capabilities or instincts. For instance, a weekend jaunt to a tropical island paradise, where there would be nothing to watch over his shoulder for. It is theorized that, under such circumstances, the subject would almost certainly suffer a mental breakdown.

_Zack came to and sprang to his feet. His eyes darted about, taking in his surroundings. Sun . . . sand . . . water . . . palm trees . . . a half dozen swimsuit-clad siblings clustered around him, watching._

_"What the hell is this?" Zack demanded. "Why does my head hurt?"_

_"We had to knock you out," explained Jondy, "or we'd never have been able to drag you out here."_

_"You need to relax," Krit added. "You're so stressed out all the time. We figured a trip to Max's sugar daddy's folks' private Caribbean island would help."_

_"It's completely secure," said Tinga. "You've got nothing to worry about."_

_Zack frowned, worried. Something was missing. His head felt empty. Already, he could feel his attention lagging, his sharp soldier instincts going dull. No! No! A soldier can't stop watching his back! Not ever! He tossed a glance over his shoulder, desperately searching for something, anything, that posed a threat. There was nothing there but the ocean lapping peacefully at the shore. Zack peered into the tropical foliage ahead of him, but there was nothing but pretty little birdies playing among the exotic flowers._

_Zack's head was starting to hurt from all this non-worry. His hands darted up to hold his noggin together against certain deterioration, and he screamed._

_The others shot him concerned glances._

_Zack just huddled on the sandy ground, babbling about religious figures and pot lucks._

* * *

Study into Zack's psychology is still in its infant stages, and many more years of research may be necessary before we reach a true understanding of the subject's mind. The end results, however, promise to be well worth it. We welcome any comments and suggestions from our fellow Zack researchers. With enough time and dedicated effort, we are certain that we shall crack this mystery.

Tinga and Zane sat in the car, watching the bewildered researchers poking around the in bushes for Zack. They eventually departed, shaking their heads in discouragement and taking their clipboards and cameras and microphones with them.

Zane started the engine, and Tinga leaned over to the back seat to lift the blanket that covered a lump on the floor.

"They're gone now," she informed her brother.

Zack sat up. "Good riddance," he grunted. "I'm sick and tired of performing for them."

"Well," Zane remarked with more than a hint of sarcasm, "you didn't want them to get the right impression of you and use it for their evil mad-scientist experiments."

Zack shrugged noncommittally. "I just hope they didn't videotape it when I visited Jondy . . . "


End file.
